In which I check in with my New Year’s resolutions while my lover makes fun of me because the idea of setting personal goals in a haphazard and existentially random universe is meaningless, when you really think about it.

December 29, 2012

The other day we were driving, and this happened:

Jacob: “What the crap kind of face are you making?”

[Haughtily] “I’m thinking about how I did with my New Year’s resolutions last year, if you must know. I’m giving myself a performance review.”

“My god.* How’d you do?”

“Well, let’s see. I happen to have my little notebook right here, with resolutions on the last page. How handy!”

“Shut it. It means being open to the creative potential within first and foremost, obviously.

Moving on. 3) Let go of ickiness.

This means, when something shitty happens and I get all bent out of shape about it, really analyze it to see why I’m getting all sensitive, and if it doesn’t matter in the scheme of things, just let it go.”

“You realize I tell you that just about every day?”

“Shut it. 4) Drink more water.”

“You’re pretty bad at that.”

“Shut it. So that was 2011. On to 2012.

1) See 2011 resolutions.”

“What? How can a resolution be ‘also, do all the other resolutions too’?”

“Because they’re my resolutions and they can be whatever they want! Moving on.

2) Drink more water.”

“That one was already a 2011 resolution, so now it’s like a double resolution. Though, you know, you really drank a lot of water when you had that UTI a few months ago. Good job with that one!”

“[Sigh.] 3) Yoga video as much as possible.”

“What, did you do it…twenty times?…that’s not so bad. That’s almost 15 minutes of exercise almost every two weeks!”

“I’ll have you know, I did it TWENTY-ONE times, mister.

4) Trust your heart.

I think I’ve done pretty good with that one.”

“You’ve got a good heart, that one’s easy.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart.

5) More cat time.”

“Aww.”

“I really failed at that. Poor unloved cats. It was another year of them trying to drag pets from my hands while I slept by trying to slither their heads under my hands.”

“And biting you to wake you up so you could pet them?”

“Yeah. Poor babies.

6) Indulge in vices like junky internet in unlimited quantities, in order to strip them of their power as forbidden pleasures, thus investing them with more allure.

“Well, the paint job I did needs to be redone, and we need to get the couch reupholstered, but yeah, we started. Yay!

Last one: 8) Stop working by 10 or 11, get up by 9 or 10, do computer work for one hour, eat breakfast, do yoga for one hour, etc.”

“[Hysterical maniacal laughter.] OH MY GOD. OK, I have a couple questions. First of all, I like how you give yourself twelve hours to sleep.”

“Wait, that’s not all sleeping time—it says come home by 10 or 11, and get up by 9 or 10. Some people, you know, don’t work until it’s time to go to sleep. They, like, do things between work and sleep. Not us, but I hear tell of such things.”

“Ah. OK, that’s something. But yoga for an hour!! Also, breakfast? At home? I’ll believe it when I see it. [Usually I make breakfast at work, and eat it while getting the morning in order.] And what’s ‘etc’? That whole schedule was just a recipe for failure if I’ve ever heard one.”***

“Yeah…you’re right…OK, ok. This year I’m really stripping down.”

“OK, lay it on me.”

“Here we go! 2013! Three resolutions. That’s IT.”

“This sounds amazing.”

“OK! Number one! Drum roll!

Do not concern yourself with people who fill you with rage. For example:

People who mean well but are always saying idiotic snipey things.
People who do not mean well and are always saying idiotic snipey things.
People who mean well but are idiots.
People who focus on the wrong things, to everyone’s detriment.
Backhanded complimenters.”

“That’s A LOT of people.”

“Yep! F ‘em all! Number two! Don’t interrupt people so much.”

“Hmm.”

(This truly is my worst trait. Everyone tells me so.)

“And number three!! Drink more water.”

[Hysterical laughter.]

*You probably could have guessed this, but Jacob does not make resolutions.

**Our dining room used to house the giant industrial fridge that now lives at the shop, so when it moved out we decided to try to make it into a real cozy room. We got a vintage couch that is literally mouldering away, so that still needs some work, and I touched up the paint in the room with the same paint we used to paint it eight years ago, which had become a completely different color from the color on the walls after sitting in a can in the garage for the past 8 years (I kept telling myself, “I bet when it dries, it will match perfectly!” even though it was as thick as peanut butter…). But the room is coming along! We have a nice piece of art for it that our friend Than found at a flea market in Brooklyn (home of all great art, obviously) and a nice ebay-ed midcentury lamp, too. Soon we’ll be watching movies on a couch (not in bed!) on a real TV (not a computer!) in an actual decorated room! We’re becoming adults! American adults! (The TV is big!) I’ll show you a photo when it’s all done, yes I will.

OK, wait, here’s a photo of me in front of *THE ART!*:

***Upon reading this post, Jacob would like me to add a note saying that 1) he thinks he sounds like a douche, which he is not, and 2) He never said that my 2012 schedule resolution was a “recipe for failure.” I maintain that I remember him saying it, but in a cute way that made me want to make him stop the car so I could kiss him.